


words that very well may just be made up

by Grand_Funk



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, bored office shennanigans, the chaos potential for these goobs is limitless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 09:44:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grand_Funk/pseuds/Grand_Funk
Summary: The end of a case, two weeks, a series of pizza runs with Farah, and a far too close encounter with store security after a very bored Dirk decided that 'he wanted that thing so that means it’s supposed to be his it’s fine', and Todd still could not think of the goddamn word.





	words that very well may just be made up

**Author's Note:**

> https://emotionalbug.tumblr.com/post/170273231201/todd-is-there-a-word-thats-a-mix-between-angry
> 
> Saw this post over on tumbl and thought, well that looks fun.

 

Cases come and go, but the brutal touch of the universe lasts a lifetime. Todd had watched as hurt draped itself over the shoulders of a woman who had lived kindly, who had paid her dues and was never supposed to have had anything so bizarre and destructive tear through her life. A woman who had spent fifty years eating what she was supposed to and waving on pedestrians ⎯ whether or not they were in a crosswalk⎯ wasn’t meant to lose the entire foundations of her being. She wasn’t meant to be left with only anger, sadness, and the inexplicable. Todd knew this brand of pain, had prescribed it to whoever was closest for years. That had been the price tag on knowing him, hang around a be treated to a massive dose of… what?  And this was the infuriating part because after all this time they had spent together, he and this emotion, Todd could not think of the fucking word. 

The end of a case, two weeks, a series of pizza runs with Farah, and a far too close encounter with store security after a very bored Dirk decided that  _he wanted that thing so that means it’s supposed to be his it’s fine_ , and Todd still could not think of this goddamn word. 

And so, in desperation, Todd Brotzman gathered the troops.

Farah stood by a chalk board which happened to have been a particularly ornate light fixture for the majority of the week and that was, currently, also the chalk Farah was holding. Todd wasn’t sure how Mona being two separated things, one of which lost small pieces of itself as it was used, worked, but he was too busy being single-mindedly frustrated to think too hard about it.

This left Todd open.

“Okay, so, just so I have this right, you need  _all of us_  here because you’ve had a word stuck in your head, but, mm, not  _really_  stuck in your head because you haven’t actually been able to think of it for the past three weeks?” Redirecting his attention, Todd began counting to ten because he knew that what was coming next would be⎯ 

“Jesus Todd, what did you even _do_ without us? I mean, _really_. How did you even survive?”

Something frustrating.

 

For however much attitude a comfortable Dirk was able to muster, a comfortable and incredibly  _bored_  Dirk was able to cook up enough sauce to make any amateur television chef jealous.  So, being the grown-up in this friendship, Todd did the high-road thing to do and only addressed Farah ⎯ and Mona too, he guessed… though he wasn’t quite sure how comprehension worked when she was inanimate.  

“I need you guys to think of every word you can for angry and sad. Everything I’ve come up with isn’t actually the word I’ve been trying to think of and it’s gotten ridiculous.” Todd paused and then preemptively started again. 

“Dirk, you can go first since we all know how you get with words.”  Now it was Dirk’s turn to pause and, mouth open, pointer finger raised, ready to spew something undeniably fresh but being beaten to the chase, settled with “Fine.”

Todd had never been much for contemplating works of karma before indisputable proof of universal intervention made itself as much of a daily occurrence in his life as inconvenient red lights and pet dander. He liked to think it made him a better person. He was getting better about post-emptively realizing that he may have just run head first into disaster. But these things took time.

 

 _Oh, this is absolutely about to become a competition_ , Todd realizes a little too late.

 

“Disaffected and lugubrious,” Dirk wastes all of no time in saying. Farah quickly writes these on the board under a column simply marked ’D’, as Dirk looks expectantly to his best of friends for confirmation of his win.  

“Nope. Keep going,” is all he gets for his efforts.  

Farah’s turn. She’s ready and as quickly as Todd finishes his gerund she’s saying, “Woebegone and crestfallen.”  

“Nope, remember I need words that mean angry too! I told you guys this was hard.”  Todd directs the latter sentence exclusively to Dirk who is directing his attention exclusively to a particularly frustrating piece of crown molding.

Todd looks back to the board with an epiphany on how not to be an asshole and the importance of inclusiveness in friendship and asks, “Uh, Mona, do… you want to add anything?”  

The board slowly begins to write “Ill at eas-” but half way through the ’s’, seems to remember that it is a board and lets the chalk drag down its face with enough implied existentialism to be scene out of surrealist horror film. The three pause and exchange glances before Dirk says “It’s okay Mona, you did your best.”  

 

The board does not respond because it’s a chalkboard.  

 

And so the agency carries on, quickly leaving two at a time to the wayside in favor of slinging four, five, words per person. Words that are moving further and closer and further and closer to what Todd wants. Angry and mad. One of them has to figure out what this godfor-fucking-saken word is.   

“Abraded,” Farah yells and “Acheronian,” Dirk counters. Though, as far as Todd is concerned, Dirk has moved into the realm of words that very well may just be made up. (He had already tried three words in Romanian.)   

Farah, fiercely competitive, takes to putting down her Mona-chalk (before she snaps it, which she wasn’t positive wouldn’t cause pain. Couldn’t take any chances.) and begins unloading words like she unloads range rounds. 

“Malcontented, disgruntled, miserable, desolated…” But both guns and Farah eventually run out of ammo. She needed time to reload… which gives Dirk the opening he needs.  

 

“Smad.” He says simply. Defiantly.

 

Upon receiving no response but a single raised eyebrow from Todd and a mid-chalking pause from Farah, Dirk presses on.   

“Smad. The word you’re looking for is smad.” Dirk says with a stand and an unleashing of hands that had been asked to be still, well still-ish, for what was surely approaching a decade. He continues. “That’s it. I win. That’s the word. You’re looking for a word that’s mad and sad at the same time Todd? That’s it…   

"Smad." 

 

And Dirk is finished. As far as he’s concerned, that _is_ it! That. Is. It! That is the winning word.  

Todd sighs, defeated.  

 

It’s been two hours and you know what? Sure. Smad fucking works as long as he doesn’t have to think about it anymore. Mona had been slowly expanding to accommodate every new word and was now taking up a disproportionately large amount of space for the height of her legs; This had gone on long enough. And knowing Dirk, he was about to say some garbage like⎯

"I’m going to call for some pizza and have them declare my victory in olives. Any other toppings requests?”

Like that. Just like that. 

 

From the remaining three people in the room, the two still actually shaped as people agree that pizza is probably the best course of action.  

But Farah, ever the voice of reason, decrees that if Dirk wants something written out in olives he’s going to have to call the pizza place, and that if they weren’t going to deliver he was going to have to go get it. Maybe not the voice of reason, then, maybe just the voice of loss derived spite. Not willing to let innocent parties be endangered for the sake of pizza and competitive grudge, Todd volunteers to drive.  

And if after the pizza’s called in, Todd happens to think of the word and it actually was a little more sad than mad and it actually is on the board and he had just missed it earlier… Well, that isn’t really anything anyone needs to know at this point. 

 

 


End file.
